


Rendezvous

by vulpineTrickster



Series: A Knight and His Geek [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpineTrickster/pseuds/vulpineTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Cassius, perhaps we should return to the gala lest someone notices our—aahhh—absence.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> My slice of Wikstrom/Cassius, my newest XY ship :)
> 
> Argh, I am so out of practice with writing smut.
> 
> Disclaimer: Pokémon, its characters, and its franchise belong to Satoshi Tajiri and Nintendo.
> 
> **_DO NOT COPY OR DUPLICATE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!!!!!_ **
> 
> * * *

“Cassius, perhaps we should return to the gala lest someone notices our—aahhh—absence.” 

“Don’t care.” Cassius dips his head lower, nuzzling the space where neck and shoulder meet. 

Wikstrom sucks in a breath. “What if someone stumbles upon our tryst? Such a scandal will surely—” 

A heated kiss silences the knight as nimble fingers work at the fastenings of his waistcoat, fumbling over the intricate buttons. Cassius presses closer, letting Wikstrom know how aroused he is. The kiss leaves their lips red and swollen and wanting more. With a smirk, the technician returns his attention to his boyfriend’s throat, nibbling and biting. 

“Goddamn it, how the fuck do these work?” Cassius soon grumbles, tugging on a button so hard it rips off. “Oops.” 

Wikstrom stifles a laugh. “Allow me.” 

With practiced flicks, the waistcoat is open and then shed, joining the pile of discarded coats and ties at their feet. He works at unbuttoning his shirt too, slowly revealing a pale chest dusted with fine dark hair. 

Cassius approvingly licks his lips at the beauteous sight before him. His hands run down his boyfriend’s chest, teasing the dusky nipples with pinches. His fingers skim over a muscled abdomen and caress the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the pant’s waistband. 

Groaning from the sensuous touches, Wikstrom removes the dressy garment, sliding it over strong shoulders and down sinewy arms before dropping it to the floor. He wastes no time in drawing his lover back and thoroughly stealing his breath away with another deep kiss. 

Belts are unbuckled. 

Buttons are undone. 

Zippers are pulled down. 

Pants and underwear are shoved to their knees. 

Cassius bucks against Wikstrom as his boyfriend grips both of their full cocks with one hand. Fingers adorned with calluses run along the veined skin in even strokes. Their arousals slide together, slick with sweat and pre-cum. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” the technician drawls. 

Wikstrom shudders; his lover’s blunt nails dig into his bare shoulders. His free hand wanders down and cups an ass-cheek, kneading the flesh. 

Cassius’ shirt rides up, showing off a toned stomach which the knight would love nothing more than to suckle on that taut skin, leaving a mark so dark it will last for days. He pumps their cocks faster, relishing in the lewd noises his lover makes. 

Wikstrom wishes they were on a lavish bed instead of in a mediocre coat closet— _once we retire to my chambers, I will properly bring my beloved to euphoria and back._

Imagining his lover sprawled and needy has him tighten his grip. Cassius shouts his release, spurring the knight to heatedly thrust against the other man’s sputtering cock. With a low grunt, his seed joins his lover’s, soiling skin and clothing even more. 

They slump from exertion: Wikstrom against the wall behind him and Cassius against his boyfriend. Neither feels like moving and enjoys their post-coital bliss. The knight presses a chaste kiss upon the technician’s sweaty forehead. 

“Might I inquire what brought upon this lustful impulse?” 

Cassius smirks. “Blame the suit, yo. Seein’ you all prim and proper got me all hot and bothered. Thought I’d burst if I didn’t drag you off.” 

“Then I fear for your health, Cass, should you gaze upon me donning tights,” chuckles Wikstrom. 

The technician’s cock twitches as he mutters a ‘Damn it, Wik’ under his breath. 

The rattle of a turning knob— _you didn’t lock it?!_ —and the door opening— _a slight folly on my part but you were…_ —soon banishes their calm— _don’t turn this ‘round at me!_ —and invokes panic upon the couple. Before either can react, a blond head pokes itself inside. 

Siebold, in his stoic glory, does not respond to the half-naked men. 

Wikstrom instinctively shields his lover, unabashed at his current state of dress with a certain body part still out in the open and splotches of semen dotting his skin. Cassius hurriedly pulls up his underwear and pants, his face sporting a darkening blush. 

The intense stare-down between the League members does not yield until Siebold shrugs and leaves. 

Both men can hear a muffled ‘This one’s occupied’ from the blond and two other voices—suspiciously sounding like the Rock _and_ Faerie gym-leaders—from behind the closed door. 

They wait until the trio is completely gone before speaking. 

“I request we move our rendezvous to my chambers.” 

“Couldn’t agree more, yo.”


End file.
